


Obedience

by Holde_Maid



Category: Highlander: The Series, Rome (TV 2005)
Genre: Consensual, F/M, Light BDSM, Platonic BDSM, Slavery, Threats of Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-27
Updated: 2016-05-27
Packaged: 2018-07-10 14:55:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6990007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Holde_Maid/pseuds/Holde_Maid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Herculaneum, circa 60 BC ...</p><p>Actually, you wouldn't HAVE to consider this within the Highlander universe(s); Iit was conceived within it, with Methos in mind. The female could perhaps be my character Diana from the Friend Trilogy. However, this would also work within the universe of the BBC series "ROME" (at least the historically fairly sound first season), hence the addition of said fandom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Obedience

**Author's Note:**

> THE LEGAL STUFF  
> This is ADULT material! Well, mainly because it involves SLAVERY. Actually, I wrote it to try and help someone understand the thrill in BDSM. Anyhow, if your country's law finds you too young to read any of this, or if you are not comfortable reading it, go away for both our sakes.
> 
> Disclaimer:  
> You could read this as a Methos story. The story as such and the slave as a character are mine, but neither Methos nor the Highlander universes are; They belong to Davis/Panzer, so far as I know, and possibly others. I only borrowed them for the fun of it, without any intention of infringing on others' rights.
> 
> Finally, if you find mistakes or discrepancies, please let me know. Thanks.

_Imagine Herkulaneum, sometime around the year 60 B.C._

_Imagine an Eques:_  
a rather wealthy, powerful man of some military merit who is more or less besieged by men who want him as a husband for their daughters as well as, of course, an ally. He may have had some of the daughters, too, but at the moment none of them has caught his fancy.  
He is highly intelligent, and a bit of a philosopher. He likes discussing ideas.  
At the moment we find him discussing the idea of obedience with a slave of his.

 _Imagine the slave:_  
She is young and has been a slave all her life. Obedience is not an idea to her -- it is her lifestyle. No, it is her life, and her livelihood.  
 

* * *

 

"Obedience is more than just words to me, master.

"How much more?"  
She swallowed. "As much as is needs be."  
"Let us test your obedience: you will do as I tell you."  
 

She obeyed his rapid monosyllabic commands as quickly as possible: "Stand. Kneel. Stand. Kneel. Stand. Spread your legs. Further. Bend over. More, let me see everything. Now ask me to whip you."  
At this she hesitated and shot him a doubtful glance. Hurt, she saw that he meant it. "Please, domine, whip me as you will."  
"Bring me the crop."  
She obeyed in silence and handed the crop over. Head bowed and eyes half closed, she waited for further commands.  
"Find a slave that will bind you."  
 

He sauntered after her as she went into the garden and arranged to be tied between two posts there as it was the custom of the house. He had her legs spread and, like her arms, tied to the posts. Then he dismissed the other slave with a nod.

Her breathing was rough now, she was tense with fear and a remote hope that her master might only be testing her.  
 

He took his time. He went around her, touched her in places with the crop, heightened the tension. At the same time he kept his distance.  
 

When she felt the crop slide up her leg, she closed her eyes.  
It touched her private parts. Intruded, slid between the delicate lips.  
It moved, rolled.  
He jerked it away. Her fear renewed, she jumped and her eyes flew open.  
 

He started again.  
Rounded her.  
Touched her with the crop.  
Stroked her with it.  
Heightened the tension further, as he followed the contours of her breast with it.  
 

In passing, he softly pinched her nipple, brushed against her, stepped back again.  
 

She felt the crop against the ankle of the other leg, rounding it, sliding upwards, and closed her eyes.  
It beat against her slightly, painlessly. Stroked the inside of her thigh, moving incessantly upward.  
Was gently pushed against her private parts. Intruded, slid between the delicate lips.  
Moved yet again, rolled, was pushed against her more firmly. Was retrieved.  
 

She held her breath, waiting for the first stroke, the first wave of pain to hit her where she was most vulnerable.  
 

But what touched her was not the crop.  
 

Instead of flogging her, he drew his fingernails over her thighs. Gently. Lightly.  
Rousingly. Turning fear into excitement. Using the tension in her body, in her mind to fuel the lust she had not been aware of until a moment ago.  
 


End file.
